And the Hero Will Drown
by leahmarri93
Summary: "You turned me into a monster!" "I had to.." "I didn't want this! Your blood...none of it, you wanna be a freak? Fine! Not me!" "I couldn't live with you dead! I had to!"
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: Ain't got no rights, not to the characters or the walking dead. **Some times it'll follow the show, most time than not it's AU. I'll try to stay in the characters right form, while adding some of my own, and creative liberties.

* * *

The first thing Daryl Dixon saw through the haze of fog was the lurching of a long since dead man, arms extended towards him- his jaw chomping and teeth searing, wanting nothing more than to draw blood, hands wanting to kill. He felt her at his back, grunting from the strain of having to pull the stolen axe from the cranium of the falling walker, her arm brushing his to let him know she was still there. Still alive. Still breathing and fighting with him.

The pair had come tearing through the trees in a mad attempt to lose the group of hollering crazies that ambushed their make shift caravan during their first supply run since the group had established a new, semi-permanent, home base in an almost completed apartment complex. Daryl had been in the lead on a salvaged dirt bike- he's always preferred two wheels to four, no matter the type of vehicle is was. As good as he was with a bow or a knife, he was better on a bike.

However, that didn't stop him from swerving and rolling off the two wheeled machine, sliding across pavement and rocks 'till his body, and gravity, worked for him and he slowed. He'd hardly just seen the multiple layers of barbed-wire thrown haphazardly across the road, which is how he'd ended up flat on his back, grunting and thanking whom-ever might be out there that he'd worn an actual sleeved shirt that day.

The car behind him skidded and jerked jack-knifed in the road, Michonne slamming the brakes down to avoid running over the sprawled out man and his bike. No sooner did the tires stop spinning did the doors fly open, all four scampering out of the small town car to see what had caused the normally careful motorist to suddenly wreck.

It was Michonne who went straight to the source, the barb wire, while Glenn began to do a look about. Carl and Reagan, the group's latest take-in, jogging over Daryl, who was now standing and muttering unheard words. "Hey! Everyone good over-"Glenn started to shout, but was quickly hushed as the window was suddenly shot out, the sound ringing all around.

"SCAT!" Daryl shouted to the group, all five heading to the tree line for cover- it wouldn't be long now before the dead heard and made their slow, decaying way to them. Daryl pulled Carl down into a shallow trench as an arrow embedded into the tree three inches above where the boys head had been.

Eyes never leaving looking away from between the two fallen branches Carl spoke, "What the hell is happening!?" He gained no response as another shout made them perk up. It was a females voice, but definitely not Michonnes, the voice was too small, with too much of an accent; Reagan. At the sound of her bleak and yelped "Fuck!" Daryl was bonding thru the trees to find her, Carl hot on his tail- gun raised and ready to shoot. The duo had made a turn when Daryl was knocked clean backwards, for the second time that day, on his back. 'Oof' and several grunts came from both Reagan and Daryl, Carl staying quiet while he scanned the trees for Michonne and Glenn.

"The hells wrong with ya'!" Daryl started in, before he noticed the long cut down the small girl's forearm, blood flowing between her fingers as she pressed into the near foot-long cut. He reached out a dirt covered hand to check and see how deep the cut was as Regan jerked her arm back, grabbing Carls out stretched hand and standing up-right again. "We gotta move, he ain't far-", as if the 'he' had been waiting for a signal to appear, a tall, broad man reached from beyond the tree and yanked Reagan's pale blonde hair backwards, pressing a pre-bloodied knife to her neck.

Carl, whose gun was already drawn, spun and aimed…then aimed higher as Daryl raised his crossbow to level with the cold, dead and dark eyes of the man. The man grinned, showing sharpened bloody teeth, and then he giggled. A real long, eerily drawn out giggle. Reagan's eye's wide and wild, blood running down her arm, dripping small drops from her elbow to the leaf scattered forest floor. Arms bent behind her head to try and loosen the vice grip on her hair, she wiggled. Daryl eyed the man, him nor Carl speaking as the man just giggled and whispered about good eating's and babies. The fanged man dropped her hair and gripped her wrists; both in one hand, and yanked them behind her back. He then flung her sideways, directly into a tree, knocking the wind from her as he advanced towards her two companions.

He was clearly insane, for he kept giggling and smiling as he raised the long rusted and bloody knife over-head. Insane or stupid, Daryl wasn't sure because the guy had knife against a gun and a bow. "Carl!" Reagan gasped, wanting to scream for him to shoot…but she didn't have to. He'd known from the second the broad man had dropped the girl that he was going to shoot him. Normally the teen would allow Daryl to handle this- his weapon was much quieter and more practical for this world than a pistol, but Carl figured there had already been a few shots fired at them and that was more than enough to draw the walkers in. What he wasn't counting on was the second gun shot, and the bullet that sliced thru the air almost deadly close to his upper leg.

The graze-by forced him forward in shock, waking Daryl from his brief moment of awe at the teens perfect head shot. Daryl grabbed Carl's side to prevent him from falling and looked for Reagan, who was already on her feet and taking Carls gun. "Gotta go..." Daryl drawled out in a rushed breath, half carrying the limping boy. Reagan occasionally spinning to see if they were being followed, or if she could see Michonne or Glenn.

Jumping down a small drop-off, the three kept running thru the woods in a large circle trying to make their way back to the abandoned car. When it occurred to Daryl that they weren't being followed he slowed enough to let Carl almost touch the ground. The kid was nearly fifteen, but Daryl had many years and height on his side. Reagan pushed forward from the tree line towards a small opening field, almost thinking her eyes had been tricked into seeing something shinning. She was about to turn back towards the males when a whistle snapped her head back to the field. Michonne was standing along the trees just across it, Glenn kneeling beside her. Alerting Carl and Daryl of this, the three headed passed the trees, pausing to be cautious, and then began to move. It wasn't until they were half-way into the clearing when the sound of what had to be a Jeep or some other off-road vehicle jerked their attention back behind them.

Michonne didn't have to shout the "Move your asses, hurry!" to get them going, but it didn't stop her; Glenn rocking on the balls of his feet beside her, ready to run as soon as the three made their way to them. Daryl had basically carried the teen across the field, and was relieved when Glenn tucked his arm under the teens. "Where's Rea?" Glenn rasped out in ragged breaths as they ran/limped. This struck Daryl odd, Reagan was with them a moment before the engines rev had kicked their asses into high gear; he turned, seeing her, or what he assumed was her as the grass was tall and there were two men shirking and hunched over in the field.

Letting go of Carl, Daryl yelled for the three to keep going, to back track to "home base." He wheeled around and raised his bow, knocking a bolt ready and then letting it sore into one of the men's shoulders. He was ready to draw it back again when he saw a flash and heard a yelp of pain, and then a shrill laugh. Reagan has raised her boot-knife and sliced on the men's faces. Not as deep as she'd have liked but enough so that he'd let go of her legs and she was able to shove her boot clad foot into the face of the other.

Rolling onto her stomach and sprinting towards the crossbow wielding figure, moving down around the tree line, hollering for her to hurry the hell up. As if she had to be told twice, her muscles seared and her stomached burned from the quick breaths and constant moving, but Reagan has made it to him and jumping towards Daryl, grabbing his arms and spinning- they ran.

And ran, and ran; 'till they burst into a larger clearing that had to be near water, what with all the fog around them. The pair heard the groans before they could see any sign of a walking corpse. Instantly lost in the muck, they turned back to back. A tactic the group had used many times on runs, or during life on the run.

So Daryl wasn't all the shocked when Reagan grabbed his hand with her free one and began scooting her feet forward, with him following. In fact, the only thing that shocked Daryl was when a pair of headlights shown thru the fog, illuminating the dark shapes of three walker bodies. Having turned to see where the light came from, Reagan never saw the walker come from behind and grab her. She only felt the dull weight on her shoulder and then the white-hot pain of teeth imbedding into the meat between her shoulder and neck. The corpse ripping back, her pale flesh being swallowed down its skinless throat; Daryl heard the girl next to him gasp as she was pulled backwards, drawing his focus from the lights to her in time to see her pull forward again and swing on her heels, bringing the axe down into the forehead of a walker.

Just as he turned back towards the approaching lights he was shoved backwards as Reagan jumped in front of him, raising her arm to defend them both. He watched wide-eyed with limps hands as the decaying walker sank its rotten teeth into her smooth, pale skin. A cold sweat washed over Daryl as she whimpered once before ripping her arm from its mouth, a few teeth implanted into the meaty skin still.

"Daryl! Run!" Reagan yelled turning and grabbing his hand with her un-bit arm while cradling the blood soaked other to her chest.

They ran for hours, or what felt like hours, all in a wide circle to find the road again. Daryl now pulling her in the direction he seemed to think would lead them back 'home'. Finally, as the sun started to lower slightly, Reagan jerked her hand from his and stopped. Daryl whipped around, expecting to find her digging her knife into a walker, having lost the axe after being bitten. Instead he saw her frowning and looking at her arm.

"C'mere…" Daryl started, but as he took a step forward, she took two back. His frown deepened, "Ya ain't turned yet, c'mere an we can cut it off now…stop it 'fore it even starts…" However, neither moved as Reagan pulled the collar of her vest over, showing him the still bleeding ripped flesh. "You can't cut this away Daryl…I'm sorry…" Reagan trailed off, raising her good arm to her face, biting at her thumb nail. Daryl just watched her, too shocked to speak. Eyes wide and mouth ajar, he stepped towards her. This time she didn't move backwards- too lost in thought to notice him advancing; him too lost in her confession of having been terminally bitten to notice the sound of twigs breaking too close by.

"I ain't gon' leave ya 'ere…" Daryl says, grabbing for her arms, "We can go back, get Bob to figure somethin' out…" Reagan raised her head, and he saw defeat in her storm-grey eyes….defeat and sadness. Reagan just shook her head, muttering how she only had one regret and now she wouldn't get to have a re-do. Daryl lowered his eyes to hers, rubbing his hands absent mindedly up and down her arms. "You know what it was?" She spoke, looking directly at him for the first time in days, "Jus' letting you walk out that day, back at the showers…now I'll never know…"

Reagan attempted to step back after her "confession", but Daryl's grasp just got tighter. He started to speak when Reagan suddenly spun them, switching their places. That's when Daryl saw it, the same giggling man, now with a long cut down his cheek, aiming a gun. He didn't have time to knock them down, the shot had already been fired and Reagan was knocked forward, small hands clutching into his leather vest.

"Rhea! Rhea…not like this…" Was the only thing she heard as the world turned even colder and became a mass of black fog.


	2. What're You Willing To Lose?

**Disclaimer, no rights. **

**AU most of the time, follows after terminus. **

_So what if all my heroes are the losing kind?_

We ended up with nothin', but we put up a fight

And most of it was choices we never asked to choose

_The rest of it was luck and now we're out of that __too_.

**Months Before. **

It had only been weeks since they'd escaped Terminus. In those few weeks they'd traveled further North, always on Abrahams orders -"Eugene is the worlds only hope". Daryl knew that they had to be close to the Georgia state line, few more weeks and he'd be out of the only place he'd ever known.

However, the weather was fighting against them. The days were forever getting shorter, and the nights were always cold. Fall was on them already, and they suspected winter would come early. Everyone in their ever-growing group knew that, in officially, Rick was the leader- Daryl his second, but they also knew that there was a shared respect for the soldier Abraham and his mission to "save the world." Though, Daryl guessed the mullet rocking "scientist" knew as much as he did about the virus that sent the world into flames and chaos. Next to nothing.

With the weather growing colder and the road getting more open and less wooded, the call was made to find shelter for the up coming winter. In the next three weeks the group had secured a run down, half finished apartment complex; the Nightingale Complex. It had rotten boards thrown about, fences down and unfinished walls and rooms. It appeared to have been abandoned during the beginning of the virus spread.

Daryl had just finished tying off the last of the wire and rope "security" fence when Rick came from his left, with worried eyes and brow knitted tight in thought.

"What's troublin' ye?" Daryl asked, wiping his hands on his old, tattered bandana. "We're running out of supplies. I think we should get a team together for a run, small, experienced. Weathers gettin' rough.." Rick drawled on in a thick accent, Daryl knew what he was asking, he didn't mind. He'd rather make the runs alone but the group always felt better knowing one of them was out too, helping, providing.

"I'll go. Take them new ones, Eric and Tim. Carl too, if ye don' care." Daryl eyed him for under his dark fringe, biting his thumb in waiting. Of course Rick minded Carl going, but he knew why Daryl wanted him to. The brothers, Eric and Tim, seemed withdrawn, odd even- he needed someone he could trust with him.

With a nod, Rick reached out and clapped Daryl's back once, "Sure, brother." Daryl noodled, knowing Rick would go if it hadn't been for the re-appearance of his tiny daughter, Tyrese and Carol. They'd met them on the run from Camp Cannibal, half way down the tracks, before they too walked into a trap.

"I'll get a route mapped...head out tomorrow.." Daryl started, walking with Rick back to the Nightingale.

жжжж

Dawn came a me early, and with the morning rays, the four men packed and slipped from the sleeping family they'd made. Rick met them at the door, undoing the many chains and boards. He grasped Carls shoulder, nodding, "I can go.." He met his sons eyes, the eyes of a grown man inside the body of a fourteen year old, "Nah, don't need no old men slowing us down." He said with a grin, earning him a chuckle and a light tap from Daryl. "Ya old mans a tough sombitch. Watch it." He said with as smirk.

All joking left the three as the brothers approached. "It'll be at least four days. Redwoods a days walk from here, given we find somethin' good." Daryl muttered, rubbing his chin, hold out the map that now held many blue circles and scribbles. "S'alright. Take care, man."

The four set out with the sun rising over head, and a chill running through their blood. Daryl had an odd feeling about this run, this town they were headed too, and the whole damn world.

Hours into their journey, Carl and Tim were engrossed in a heated discussion over which villain was the most misunderstood- Marvels Loki or DCs Harley Quinn, when they heard it- the groans. The dead seem to have on auto-pilot sound, their groans. Daryl signaled for them to get quiet, then get high. They just made it into the branches above when they began to see the stumbling shapes in the distance. The dead didn't stumble or limb their direction though, which Daryl found odd. He glanced to his right, lowering his loaded crossbow, looking at the boy who became a man too quick, they shared the same observation. The dead already had pray in sight.

From their tree-top shelter, Daryl watched as the dead made a very sharp left and bee-lined right in their direction. His heart raced and a cursed under his breath. He knew it had been more than five when he heard them before he could smell them. Now he could see more than just stumbling shadows, now he could see blood and missing limbs and gore. He could also now see what they were chasing, and he knew Carl had too, because the teen had gasped "A person, Daryl..", his eyes wild with worry and excitement. The older of the four groaned, counted out eight walkers and one axe wielding blonde.

"We do this smart, kid, or we don't do it at all.." Carl held his gaze, then looked between Eric and Tim, "Watch yer backs, don't get bite...and run if it looks lost.." He turned back towards the girl running their way, she was covered in spattered blood, jeans ripped up on leg to mid thigh, wearing only a sweater they guessed was once black, but was now dirt and blood.

"On three, drop. One..two.."

He landed with bent knees and a soft thud as the other three did the same. He raised his bow and advanced forward, ready to kill. He took long steps, Carl next to him, the other two watch their backs.

The small blonde came to a skidding halt, the red emergency axe raised in a blink of an eye, "Friend?!" She breathed out, wild grey eyes watching all of them. It was as if she could feel it reaching for, because the moment Daryl nodded, she spun, burying the blade into the side of a decaying skull.

He ran forward, arrows soaring into foreheads, keeping Carl and Eric in his sight. He told Rick he would watch them, and girl be damned, his people weren't gonna die for some dumb blonde.

The girl out a boot clad foot to the grey, half exposed chest, and kicked it backwards, releasing he axe. As soon as she did though, she sent it soaring thru the air, aiming for the walkers back.

Daryl spun at the feel of dead weight on his back, seeing a walker crumbling to the ground with an axe in its back. He peered at the girl through dark bangs, glaring, as he stepped a heavy foot down into the soft skull. He lifted his bow, firing a bolt to close to her she's ducked sideways. "Watch yer back." He hollered, half grinning as she looked over he shoulder to see a walker, head pinned down.

Daryl watched as she pulled a long knife from her boot and jumped, ramming it thru a walkers eye and kicking its knees in. Yanking back her knife the girl moved towards Carl, who was holding off the last walker. He watched thru his sights as she gripped its boney shoulder, pulling it backwards into her chest as she slipped her knife under its chin, severing its last human drive- hunger.

Releasing the frail, grey body, she stepped backwards as it fell sideways, folding in on its self. She looked up, grey eyes meeting blue, and pulled a pistol from her back, dropping it in front of her, kicking it sideways as Carl sighted her thru his. "Friend?" She said, reaching out a blood covered hand to him. Daryl lowered his bow, meeting her halfway, grasping her small hand. He noticed the colored ink on her exposed wrist, he left his gaze linger over the finger-sized bruises and small Knicks. Finally meeting her eyes with his, he nodded, a quick shake, then let her hand drop.

"Reagan." She stated simply, no last name, no story. However, he noticed the cut lip, the bruised cheek, the dried blood and the anger in her eyes as she said her name. He didn't need to know, he already had a vague idea.

"Daryl."


	3. Atlantic City

**Disclaimer, no rights. Slightly AU. **

**Review, let me know everything's running smooth.**

* * *

Everything dies baby that's a fact, But maybe everything that dies someday comes back. Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty and meet me tonight in Atlantic City.

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold, but with you forever, I'll stay. We're goin' out where the sands turnin' to gold, so put on your stockin's cause the nights gettin' cold and maybe everything dies, That's a fact, but maybe everything that dies- someday comes back.

* * *

Wide-eyed and terrified, Daryl clung to Reagan as they toppled down onto the grass and leaves, blood ran through his rough hands as he tried to slow the bleeding from her stomach. Her breathing was labored and came out ragged as Daryl began to inch them closer to the trees. The last shot had been fired as they fell and now an eerie calm washed over the field they'd found themselves in.

He could hear her taking shallow gasps, he could hear the shrill laughter on the other side of the over-grown clearing, he could hear it all...but he was having a hard time seeing any of it. The dense fog had found them quicker than any walker, or insane backwoods giggles, could. He touched his free hand, covered in dirt and blood, to her neck- a pulse still thrived, but for how long? Reagan's eyes were wide open as she tried to speak, gasping and gurgling blood up and onto her face. "D-d-d...ary...l...", bringing a small, pale hand to his that was resting between her neck and cheek, finally his eyes met hers...she could see the hopeless look he held.

"I ain't leavin' ya.." He grunted as he wiped at his water-laced eyes, smearing her crimson blood across his cheeks. Daryl grabbed her shoulders, lifting her into his chest, and started to back into the trees that surrounded them. If he could get them to some cover he could try and stop the bleeding. As he carried her, he thought of ways and scenarios where they'd come out okay; where he'd gotten to her _before _the walker had given a fatal bite to the trapezius muscle. She could live without an arm, she could not, however, live with a bite in such a fatal spot. Daryl knew this, lord, did he know. But he was damned tired of losing the ones he tried so hard to protect. He wouldn't leave her again; not here, not in some level of hell where her corpse would be devoured and forgotten.

Reagan could feel a strange wave of nausea wash over her, an icy coldness numbing her from the tips of her toes, all the way to her arms. Blood ran in rivers from her her left trap(*), soaking the front of her tank, making the black even darker. Her hair was matted against her neck and shoulders from the way Daryl carried her. Theyd made it into the trees, half carrying Reagan and half dragging her, Daryl ran.

He couldn't tell you how long they carried on like that, but he only stopped once, to tie his belt around her slim waist, _when did she get so small_, to try and slow that bleeding, having already ripped her flannel into ribbons to tie off her bleeding, bitten arm. Her eyes were half open as she felt him touch her, holding her face in his hands, she tired again to reason with him but no words would come out, her mouth falling open and the strain on her lungs making her cough violently- more blood splashing on her bruised cheeks.

Daryl watched her try to speak, hold on to her, begging the world to stop being so cruel With al his thoughts. Her brows scrunched up, and he knew what she wanted to say- leave her. Find the others. Get home.

He couldn't.

So he did what he could. He put an arm under her knees, the other behind her shoulders, and ran. He ran for what felt like days, but logically could've only been an hour. He felt her start to convulse in his arms as he made it back to where they'd left the old car.

She still lived, He could feel her shallow breaths on his neck. Half limping, half running Daryl worked his way down the abandoned road, clutching her tighter to him. He was sure this was where they'd parked, in fact,he knew it. His bike was in a ditch and he saw broken pieces of his headlight on the pavement. Glenn and the others had made it back, Daryl guessed,and had gone back to 'home base'...just as he'd said to do.

Turning towards the slopped ditch, he laid Reagan out straight and draped his jacket across her. He could still feel a pulse, but it was fading quick. Her body was in shock, she was growing colder, her lips becoming blue. Collapsing neck to her, he ran his dirty hand through his hair. Reagan's blood covered most of him by now, he didn't care though, as he looked next to him he wondered when she'd turn. The blood had stopped flowing now, must've been an hour or so since she was bitten and shot. Daryl looked to the grey sky, watching as the sun was starting to sink below the trees. The woods were no place to be at night, he knew, but still he could not leave her.

Laying back, he put one hand to his face, feeling the moistend skin by his eyes, and the other reached for Reagan's colder, smaller one.

"I regret walking out that day too, Rea.." He muttered, in case what they said about unconisous people was true...incase she could hear the sorrow in his voice.

Moments later, Daryl heard tires speeding in their direction. He moved closer to Reagan, pulling her half into his lap, and raised his crossbow. He couldn't save her, he couldn't give her what she'd wanted, but he could stay with her now.

Glenn came whipping around the bend, lights illuminating Daryl and the unconscious girl laying across him. Coming to tire-screeching stop, Carl opened and was running towards them before Glenn or Michonne could un-do their safety belts.

"What happened!? Daryl! Oh my god...oh my god..Reagan.." The teenagers voice trembled as he fell in front of Daryl, who had now dropped his bow and reached for Carls shoulder. "Take this," Daryl said, handing his bow to the kid, "she's still breathin, we gotta go...Glenn! We gotta move!" He shouted as Michonne closed in on him, grabbing Reagan's colorful arms and lifting her into her chest. Glenn was there in a split second, taking Reagan from the struggling women, turning back to the car as Daryl moved with Michonne.

The sword-wielder looked into his fearful eyes, grabbing his shoulders, "You better be ready to handle what you know is coming.." She trailed off, knowing he understood her perfectly. If Reagan turned, shed have to be out down. "'am..couldn't leave 'er." Is all Daryl would say, the whole way back to the Nightingale, and it was all he'd say to Rick when they helped her into what would've been a storage locker.

"She been bit, Daryl. Bob bandaged up the gun shot, but you know what'll happen. She's already got the fever..brother, you don't have to stay.." Rick said, trying to catch the quiet mans attention. Daryl grunted and turned away from the basement door, walking down the stairs. Rick followed him, listening as Daryl spoke, not for the first time, "it's been three days, Rick. She might not turn. She could make it.." They rounded the dark corned, lite only by candles and some gas lanterns.

"Hey," Reagan said, sitting up with a wince, holding her abdomin, "can I..can I talk to yo-" her sentence wasn't finished as her coughing intensified, leaving traces of blood on her hands. Doubling over onto her knees, she coughed again, so violent her whole body shook.

Looking to Rick with wide eyes, Daryl moved to open the door. The two hadn't spoke much since Reagan woke up, screaming for them to stop it before she turned, calling Daryl a coward and Rick a bastard for not putting her down.

Reagan rolled to her side as she continued to shake, the fever finally winning. Her eyes were glazed and red, skin glistening with sweat as Daryl pulled her into a sitting posistion.

"C'mon, girl, stay with me.." His voice cracking. Rick knew he should pull him away, tell him to leave, but once Reagan moved her hands to cup the hunters face, he knew he couldn't do it. Turning away from them, Rick moved around the wanted to give them privacy, but also wanted to stay close incase she started to turn.

Touching Daryl's face, Reagan did her best to sturdy herself. Her entire body throbbed, muscles on fire, her head feeling like it was going to split in half any second. It'd been three days since they'd brought her back, how wasn't she already dead?

Daryl put on hand on her waist, the other over-lapping her hand on his face. He saw her grey eyes dull, then spark again when she met his,

"Dixon...you listen...to me...you don't let this turn you cold. Okay?.." Her hand slipped from his face to his neck as she hunched forward, coughing, then straightening again to finish what had to be said. "Jus' cause I'm gone..don't mean to shut them out...you're a..good man...okay..? I promise...I'll be waiting on..the other side..." She finished, smiling slightly, blood soaking her lips some.

"Nah, you ain't goin no where's, girl. Been three days. Yous a fighter.." He tried to stay calm, tried to keep his voice even..he tried, and he failed. The hollow look in her eyes told him he wasn't right, the way her hand tightend on his neck, the other still holding the side of his face. He gripped her waist tighter, pulling her closer as he leaned into the crook of her neck. "S'okay, Daryl.." looking back up at her, both his hands cupped her face, bringing it closer to his, only inches apart.

"Don't let this change you.." Reagan whispered, stray tears leaving a water patch down her pale face. Daryl saw her eyes fill with tears, and it was too much. He closed the small space between them, feeling her cold lips against his. The kiss was chaste, but filled with so much broken passion, as was the whole staple that held their "relationship" together.

"I shouldn't 'ave walked out..lord knows, I shoulda stayed.." Daryl mumbled to her, letting his hands fall as she shoved him away. "Don't. Dixon. Go." Reagan pushed against his shoulder, rolling onto her back as he rushed from the small storage gates.

Rick watched as Daryl stormed up the stairs, wiping at his face. He'd heard it all, and knew enough of Daryl to know that this would change him, no matter how hard Reagan tried to convince him to let go.

Opening the thin gated door, Rick walked towards Reagan's pale, cold body. It was odd, how she was so cold when everyone else was hot when the fever hit. It was odd how she lived after three days of being bitten, so odd how it took so long to work its way into her body.

Even odder how after she took a last shallow breath, holding onto Ricks hand, her pulse never quite evend out.

(*) not sure if I ever mention which trapezius was bitten. Sorry if I did, I don't remember. Hah. Reviews! Tell me the problems, where you want this to go,what your thoughts are!


	4. She Wakes When She Dreams

**Disclaimer, of course, no rights. AU. Mostly, working hard to keep the characters in check. **

**I know sometimes this comes in different waves, were exploring the past along with the present.**

* * *

_She wears a sorrow beauty can't hide_

_I pray she sheds it and sleep the whole night_

_She wakes when she dreams_

_Sleeps when she wakes._

_Now sleep my sweet girl_

_And dream of better days_

* * *

The smell before rain and the feel of wet grass as she walked through the garden of her fathers home made Reagan smile. One of the rare smiles that reached her eyes, that let whomever was watching see inside her soul. Reagan made her way across the budding strawberries and weaves between the growing carrots and beans, making her way towards her father and younger sister. She'd always said she hated this place, this middle of no-where life her parents had chosen, but she knew, deep inside, that while she never considered this home- she was safe and happy here.

She was home visiting, or that's what she told them. She didn't mention that she was running, though she suspected her father kind of knew. He always did. Visiting and running always went together when it came to Reagan, but by the end of the week she'd be back on a bus to Chicago...like always.

xxxxx

Reagan could smell the rain clouds coming, the grass was crisp and slightly longer than normal. Her boots crunched over it, leaving bent markings of her tread. Her black dress blew around her knees, the wind messing her hair and tangling the curls.

She made her way over the strawberries, they were overgrown now, needing to be plucked. Avoiding the carrots and beans, she walked toward her father, her hands twitching. It'd been a few weeks now, since shed left Chicago. She had no plans of returning now, or ever. Her love for the city died with her brother.

Laying a pale hand on her fathers tanned arm and the other on her sister shoulder, Reagan sighed. It wasn't her fault, exactly. He'd gotten the drugs from her, yes, and he'd been clean for years...but then maybe it was her fault. Withdrawing her hands, she turned. She didnt kill her brother, she didn't put the needle in his arm...but she may as well have now.

She left after his funeral. She was 19 and had only one home. Chicago.

xxxx

Regan could smell the smoke and brunt wood. she could smell it so vividly as she approached the house. This can't be real. She couldn't go thru this again. Not again.

The white farm house that she loved and missed and swore to never come back to again, was gone. A pile of black rubble, buried in it all her childhood and love.

Reagan watched as the strawberries were trampled on, and day two of the cleaning went on. She stood still, not even breathing, as her heart broke for her remaining siblings. They had a bright future a day ago, a loving father, a home...now they only had her. She could feel the falling ashes on her face, catching in her eyelashes, leaving black smudges across her cheeks as she wiped them away. She was 21 and now the legal guardian of two young children- 10 and 8 years old.

This couldn't be happening again.

She fell to her knees as the world exploded to white.

xxxx

The wind kissed at her face, gently and then in full force. She couldn't wrap her head around it. Two children, now hers. She paced the parking lot of the Golden Manor, the cheapest motel she could afford while still feeding her siblings. Her hair blew up around her shoulders as her hands began to twitch, she was just barely functional now.

She had nothing. She was nothing. The gravel tug into her bare feet as she continued to walk in and out of view of the motel window. A young girl and a smaller boy sat on the full size bed, watching Reagan pace the lot for an hour.

She could feel every pebble in the bottom of her feet, she could feel the wind all around her, she could smell trees and outside and blood...and Daryl.

But he wasn't there? She paused, her head suddenly throbbing; her bare armshad goosebumps growing when she collapsed to the pavement. Holding her tattooed hands to her head, she sobbed out._ Why me?_

Hunching forward, one arm supporting her weight, she cried out in pain. The smell was so over powering...the world was crumpling and imploding into her head_. _

_xxxx_

The first waves of the outbreak caught her off guard. This wasn't possible. So much had already happened, just a week ago she had to burry the second member of her small family.

The television at the Golden Manor hadn't been shut off in two days, Reagan hadn't slept nor had she stopped pacing in those two days. Jessie, her sister, and Sam, her brother, were all she had now. She had to keep them safe if this was all true_. _

_Of course it is. You were there. Wake up. Wake up.._

Abruptly stopping her paces, Reagan rushed around the bed towards the closet. They were going to the only safe place she could think of. Hastily packing their things, she turned to her siblings, "Get your shit. We have to go. This is real."

Both children rushed about, throwing clothes and toys and pictures of their father in their bags. When Reagan spoke, you listened. That's how it's always been, even when she wasn't physically home, you listened when she called and said to do your homework.

Four bags packed and twenty minuets later, Reagan was in the parking lot loading their Explorer. Jessie and Sam in the backseat, Reagan turned back to the room. Give him a call, she thought, a heads up to run_. _

_No. No. Don't. Because then he'll find you, them, do you want to go through that again?_

_Wake up. _

_Open your eyes._

"it's me," she says into the phone at the gruff 'what'. "You need to leave the city. The new reports are right. Just go. I have the kids with me, I'm not coming back." And she hung up. Her hand trembling, years of knowing each other and this was the end. The true End_._

_Open your eyes. _

The drive wasn't long, but it was quiet. The radio turned up, the reports kept coming in, the infected were leaving the cities, they were coming.

Speeding past a STOP sign, Reagan jerked the wheel left. They were so close. People were everywhere, running, screaming...bleeding.

There was no place safer than Fort Knox, right_?_

_No,no, no...don't. It's not safe anywhere. Wake up._

_xxxx_

_There is no safe place. No military base is safe. The world is not safe. _

Reagan found that out a week after the outbreak, while her and her sister and brother where begin shuffled from barracks to barracks with thousands of other military families_. _

_Wake up. Don't go there. _

The lights were flashing white. The walls were turning white. The world was turning white around her, her legs gave out, she clutched her head in agony. She didn't want to remember losing them too. All of them. None of them_. _

_Open your eyes._

_xxxx_

Daryl left the gated storage room, panicking. Rick was right. She was going to turn. She started to turn,the fever winning out as she collapsed.

The daylight burned his eyes and the brisk cool air pierced his lungs. His breathing was ragged and he was broken. He wouldn't run, leave his new family. But how was he supposed to stay? She was dead.

Spinning around, the red neck buried his fist into the side of the plaster wall. the sudden violent lash out started to draw the attention of Abraham and Glenn, who were on front watch. They looked at him with so much pity that he hit the wall again.

No one was going to feel sorry for him. Not one damn person would pity him.

Glenn saw him, hitting the wall with such force that the plaster gave and he pulled out insulation. Daryl's hands were bloody and his face was wet, from sweat or tears, Glenn wasn't sure. He approached the other man with caution, Daryl was not the man to walk up to and hug when he was hurt.

Reaching a gloved hand out, Glenn gripped his shoulder. Softly, then tighter. Daryl looked over his shoulder, seeing his friend there...he wasn't sure what to think. Reagan and him had gotten close, but we're never together. All the same, watching her go had hurt him. Deeply. Past some level of when he lost Beth.

Only with Beth, he'd gotten a reunion. Got to say he was sorry, and they got to continue being friends. With Reagan...there could've been more. Maybe, he thought, but he knew he shouldn't. After all, that's why he'd walked out on her all those nights ago.

Glenn stood awkwardly behind Daryl, not sure of what to say or do when a scream caught them. Glenn sensed Daryl's shoulders tighten, his muscles twitching and jerking, then they were both tearing through the front entrance of the Nightingale.

"GET DARYL!" They heard Rick shout, "GET BOB! Now!"

Daryl didn't hesitate to follow Bob and Abraham down the stairs, Glenn and Maggie right after them. He didn't hesitate to jump two stairs at a time and shove past them all- Rick was calling. He needed them. He was their brother.

He did, however, hesitate when he came to the gated door, allowing Bob to move in front of him, Maggie following closely. Glenn hovered with Daryl for a moment, but as he opened his mouth to say something Rick cut him short, "Daryl, you were right.."

Daryl could see around the small huddle of people, Rick with Reagan's pale hair in his lap. She was unconscious now, but must not have been a moment before.

"I saw death slip from her eyes..." Bob said, wrapping his fingers around Reagan's colorful wrist, checking for a pulse. It was faint, hardly moving, but it was there.

"She's alive.." Rick muttered, turning slightly to see Daryl's wide eyes, full of shock and hope and fear.

**REVIEWS, PREDICTIONS, SUGGESTIONS! **


	5. Behold the Hurricane

**Disclaimer, of course. Of course, the lyrics are not mine either. **

**Keep patient with me, I'm flowing with you guyS.**

* * *

It's such a shame

I heard the wind say this morning

Be still my heart

I age by years at the mention of your name

What a pity this season

You remember me, my lover

I don't recognize myself

I'm not the man you love

Behold the hurricane.

Behold the hurricane.

At the door the leaves had fallen.

Suddenly, I realized that you were gone.

Suddenly, I realized that you were gone.

Behold the hurricane.

* * *

"How many walkers've you killed?"

"That what you call them?"

"Yah, how many?"

"Don't count them.."

"What about people, you kill anyone?"

"Only when I had to.."

"You had to? Why"

"Because they were worse than...walkers..?"

xxx

"Did you have family?"

"Sure. Everyone had someone _before_, right?"

"I guess. But, like, were you married? Kids? Boyfriend...girlfriend?"

"Never married, no kids, and he wasn't really a boyfriend.."

"Brothers, sisters? C'mon Rea, everyone had someone. I had a mom once, grandparents, friends...we all did.."

"I don't have them now, so it don't matter."

Xxx

"What were you doin' out there, alone? You were covered in dry blood. No food, Daryl says you were frantic. Why?"

"Was runnin. Thats what we do now, runnin' all the time."

"But why? Where's the rest of your people?"

"S'alone..been alone for a while, I guess."

"Reagan, any last name? Can you tell me anything? I need to know we can trust you, that I can trust you- with my children and the rest. If you're dangerous you can't-"

"If you ain't a danger to me, I won't be to you. Especially not to children."

"Good. Daryl said you _wake up _can fight. That's good. That's important."

"Guess so.."

" He also says you've killed. Why-_ wake up"_

_"Reagan! Please, open your eyes!"_

xxx

Reagan's eyes flew open, blinking rapidly and taking shallow breaths, she jerked upwards. Rick was still there, holding her in his lap, running a calloused hand through her pale hair. She saw Bob sitting next to her, across from Rick, Maggie in the doorway and Glenn standing behind her shoulder, a hand resting on her hip.

Sweat dripped into Reagan's eyes, causing her to continue blinking and rub at her face. She tried to speak, to ask what happened, where she was, but instead she coughed violently. Bringing her tattooed hands to her mouth, she coughed and gasped in the air her lungs desperately needed. Pulling her hands down Rick saw blood in her palms and could feel the shake of her bones, some how she was still here, still living.

Reagan tried pushing off Ricks lap, her bloodied hands gripping his thighs, but he pulled her into his chest, shushing her whimpers. Daryl watched from outside the caged room as Rick held onto her, he was in utter shock. No one survived a bite, no one lived. He saw from the corner of his eye, Abraham shaking his head and turning towards Rosita. They would want to leave soon, Daryl knew they'd probably not stay the whole winter, but now they'd want Reagan to come with them. She was bitten and she lived, she was as important as Eugene now.

Leaning back into Rick the small blonde inhaled everything. She was looking around the room rapidly enough to get whiplash though she didn't feel it. She wanted to walk outside, run away and never look back. The dreams had been so vivid, so real. She could still smell the burning of wood and feel the terror of the infected in her veins.

Reagan looked around at all the faces of the people she'd come to know so well, they all wore the same expression: shock, worry...fear.

Rick was holding her tightly, his hands covering her arms and rocking her slightly. "Shh, calm down Rae. You're fine. We're here." He kept muttering into her hair, as if that would reverse her dreams and make it hurt less. Her veins were on fire, her blood felt like acid pumping thru her. Her body ached in all the places she never thought could ache, her head was pounding and her hands were shaking.

"Rea, shh. It's okay. You're okay!" Bob tired, putting both hands to her face just as Michonne entered the room, Daryl right behind her. They'd been there since Rick called, but had only just made their presence known. Carl was seated next to his father and had a hand on Reagan's leg, Daryl noticed the way the boys darted all over her, as if checking for any other visible injuries.

Reagan jerked her head from Ricks shoulder and looked at Daryl, who only nodded back. "How...?" She breathed out, shaking ever so slightly against Ricks chest. Daryl would be lying to himself if he'd said the sight didn't bother him at all, but that's not what this was about. This was Reagan, and she'd survived a bite that was fatal. He looked her over as Bob pulled her bandaged arm from Ricks hands.

He unwound the gaze, more resting beside him in a green medical bag, as he reached where her forearm bite _was_ he stopped. Turning her arm around and examining it again, he frowned. "It's gone.." Bob huffed out, at a loss of medical explanation as to _how_ the bite was gone. Rick moved his hand to Reagan's hair, pulling it the side and out of her face as she leaned back into his chest. Bob reached forward as Daryl moved closer to see her arm. Pulling a pair of scissors from his bag, Bob began to cut the bandage that was wrapped awkwardly under her arm and around her neck. The bite to her trapezius muscle was also just a scar now, evident that this bite was the fatal one.

Daryl's head tilted sideways to see as Maggie pushed her way into the room, asking all the questions everyone wanted to know.

How was she alive?

where did the bites go?

How?

How?

Why?

"I guess Daryl was right, you were immune. I suppose it's possible there are some people who could be.."Bob trailed off, losing himself in thoughts. "No..not immune..vaccinations...Benning.." Reagan tired to form a real sentence, she tried to tell them, she wasn't naturally immune to this infection, no one was. This was a lethal disease that had spread with such rapidness that the CDC and military didn't have time to approve the proper laws and establish all the right testing facilities. She was an experiment by force. And it worked.

"Benning?" Rick spoke softly to her, untangling her hair, "As in Fort Benning, here, in Georgia?" He eyed Daryl and Abraham, knowing they wanted to know if they had been so close to a cure so many years ago.

Reagan just nodded as an answer and tried to move away from him again. "It worked..had to.." She murmured as Carl grabbed her hands, helping to her knees. Everyone was watching her, eyeing every movement she made. "Whatcha mean, it worked?" Daryl asked in his drawled out voice, crouching in front of her, a hand going to her shoulder as Carl backed away.

"We were...moved...to Benning..they gave us stuff, in our blood," she paused to drink from the bottle Michonne was offering her. Water had never tasted so fresh and heavenly. "Didn't think it'd work. Never tested well." She finished swallowing and looking up to Daryl's eyes. She never told them shed been at Fort Benning, didn't want to answer their questions about her time there.

"We? You said you didn't have a group. That you was alone." Daryl eyed her with suspicion now, his eyes a mixture of concern and...something else. "Who's Sam?" Carl asked, with all the oblivion of a child's innocent curiosity. Reagan's head whipped around so fast that they heard the crack as she stared at the teenager with eyes so wide they might bulge out. "Was he your boyfriend? You'd said you had one...you said it in your sleep..sorry.." He finished awkwardly as his father and Daryl cut him those looks that said you should shut up while you're ahead.

Just as Daryl was beginning to ask more questions, Reagan bolted through the mass of people and took off down the hall. The group stayed still for a moment longer in shock, the girl could hardly lift herself forward a second ago and now she was running through the building.

Daryl launched after her, hearing the steps behind him was an assurance that others had followed. He heard the many chains and bolts sliding and shuffling to the ground, knowing Reagan had made a break to be outside he ran after her. Emerging through the front entrance of the Nightingale, Daryl saw her hunched over in the grass, a walkers lifeless rotting body a few feet from her. It hadn't been there when him and Glenn had gone inside to Rick.

Gasping and pulling at the grass, Reagan shuddered. She'd mentioned him, she never wanted to hear his name again- he was the constant reminder that she had failed everyone shed ever loved. "Rea..." Daryl said as he dropped next to her, checking for a weapon as he rubbed her back. When the rest began to swell out of the building he ceased his movements and just watched her. He could see a shake in her shoulder as she gagged, knowing that she wanted to be sick,but had nothing in her but guilt and questions.

"You said Benning is where you got this cure?" Abraham demanded from the small blonde, _when had her hair become less golden and more silver,_ "that's what you said. You've had it in you all along and you never said anything!" He shouted at her, coming forward as Rick and Glenn moved in front of a sitting Daryl and hunched Rea.

Finally looking up and over her shoulder, Reagan spoke with such rasp even Daryl, as close as he was, had to strain to hear her, "Not a cure...I didn't know it worked...not till now.."

"But you got it at Fort Benning? That's only a few hours drive from here. We could go,see if they left some behind. Give some to Euge-" "NO!" Reagan screamed, cutting the soldier off and causing everyone to glance around in caution. "The only thing that's left is ghosts and monsters.." She trailed off, looking at her hands then back to begging him to veto Abrahams wishes.

He looked at her sadly and crouched next to her, pulling her hands into his and helping her stand. "We have to try. The CDC is destroyed. Was it gone when you got there?" He asked, still gripping her hands as Daryl rose and moved next to Carl and Michonne. "Gone. We weren't there. Was at some other building. Ain't nothing left." Her voice was growing stronger with each breath. And as her and Rick battled back and forth about where and which building, Daryl kept eyeing their hands. Finally he turned back towards the rotting flesh of the walker, it's jaws where snapping, he realized, but it's neck was twisted...almost like it had fallen in on itself and twisted it funny. He moved over towards it as Abraham cleared his throat, "Its settled. Tomorrow, we go to Benning and we find this "vaccine" or whatever it is. Then Washington."

Daryl saw Reagan fall into Rick side, silent and rubbing at her eyes again. He stood over the snapping killer and saw finally what happened to it. Something had hit it, snapped its head backwards with such force it lost control of its limbs and caved in on itself. Something, he thought, or better yet, someone.

He glanced over at Reagan again, from under his shaggy dark hair, and wondered when her eyes had gotten darker and how her once clean hands had become so dirty.

"To Benning," Rick declared as the group began moving back inside. Daryl stayed a moment longer, watching as the sun sank behind the trees and the air became crisp against his lungs.

"Benning.." He muttered as he turned and shuffled into the Nightingale.


	6. That Much Further West, PT One

**Disclaimers, here. **

**I'd listen to these songs while reading This, I do. **

* * *

And since she's been gone

I've done less right than I've done wrong

But I an't that much worse than the rest

I'm just that much further west

* * *

Reagan couldn't believe Rick would side so easily with Abraham, they were going to back-track south to Fort Benning to find whatever magic drug was inside her. It was a long shot, Rick knew that much, but he had to try. He had to try to keep his people- his family, safe.

Judging by the way Reagan protested he suspected that the place held terrible memories, but so did almost every sidewalk, abandoned super-market and town house now. He desperately wanted to ask her why she objected going back, but knew if she'd wanted the group to know, she'd have told them. He had begun hanging around her earlier that month, around the time he noticed her starting to withdraw back into herself, much like she had when Daryl had brought her back with the young teenaged brothers who never ceased to follow her, or Beth, around. Typical boys, Rick mused while watching Reagan and Carl shoot arrows at a wall with a marked target in neon pink glow paint.

Reagan's aim was always true to her sights, she hardly missed the mark. Carl, however, was making progress at just drawing the arrows back. He was much more of a gun or knife man, which made Rick smile. He was never good with archery either.

He hated to admit that he'd miss the Nightingale, as he was sure most of its occupants would. Groaning, he made his way to his feet, shuffling towards the target practice happening in front of him He cleared his throat, announcing himself. Both Carl and Reagan turned quickly, obviously engrossed in some topic- probably comics or Rea's never ending tales of music shows and conspiracy theories.

"Can I talk to you," he said, gesturing to Reagan and smiling. She'd guessed it'd be him or Abraham who would want to talk. Sighing, she nodded and handed the black compound bow back to Carl, nodding to him She followed Rick from the "practice area" to his living quarters that he shared with his children.

"S'bout earlier?" Reagan guessed, her accent thick with a mixture of southern drawl and northern posh. She never spoke of her life _before _but then again, no one really did anymore. Frowning, Rick nodded at her, trying to find the words to ask, but falling short.

"You want to know why...why I don't wanta go back.." Scratching the bridge of her nose, Reagan looked down at her boots. She knew it would come up eventually, she'd just hoped they'd leave it be. "I ain't gonna talk about it. Not in detail, just know that anything we might fine won't be worth the travel or the horror show.." She trailed off, her gaze turning towards a boarded window then to her boots.

Rick took in her physical state, not for the first time, if he was being honest with himself. She wore jeans with too many holes and black boots, a flannel a size too big and she looked so small while staring awkwardly at the ground. He'd never actually seen her in anything less, most of the group had gotten comfortable in the Nightingale and had begun to dress as such. Maggie even wore shorts every now and then, Beth once wore a sun dress Glenn had gotten her...but Reagan never did. She kept covered, and he'd learned why when she was carried in covered in blood and half sick with the fever.

Bob had stripped her of her shirts and vest, ripped her jeans up to the hip, and laid her out on the cold floor in a tank covered in dirt and blood. Maggie had fetched a bucket full of water and began to scrub at the girls skin, trying to find the bullet holes and bites that Daryl kept muttering about.

It was the first time he'd seen the scars that danced across her stomach and sides, looking closer he could see them scattered through out her tattoos. In fact, he'd never known she had so many, she did well to hide some, but the ones on her hands and neck couldn't be hidden. Some he recognized as bike gang ink, he was sure Daryl did too, with the way he frowned when Carl asked her about them later on.

She stood now in front of him, arms folded over and sleeves puled over her hands, like she could fold into herself and be gone. Reaching out Rick laid his hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up, "When you're ready to talk, I'll listen...okay? But we need to know the layout. We can't afford to walk into another disaster.." He spoke gently, his southern accent more profound than hers as he touched the side of her throat. He saw fear and confusion in her storm colored eyes, for the first time since they'd met...and that worried him. Was this a good move to make?

Reagan just nodded in response and pulled away as Daryl and Carol walked in, holding a fussy baby Judith. Daryl looked at them in such an odd manner that even Rick took a step to the side, finally seeing it in his eyes. He and Reagan hadn't spoken about what transpired between them when they'd all thought she was gone.

"I'll make a floor plan of the facility for Abraham and I'll map the route I took when I left there.." Reagan's voice broke Ricks stare with Daryl, he glanced at her, seeing her bite at her thumb and her brows knitted in thought he just nodded and slid past her to Carol and Judith.

Watching Rick hug his baby girl and smile as she grabbed at his face made Carol smile, happy that little Judy still had her father. "Abrahams lookin' for yah, wants to leave sooner.." Daryl grunted out and shaking his head as he turned and marched out of the room again.

Reagan followed after, tired of the awkward air that hung between them and tired of the looks everyone was giving her. She brushed her bangs out of her face and began to pull her hair up, it was never as neat as Beth's, but she liked to have it out of her face, for the most part. Boots shuffling across the tiled floor of the hall, Reagan followed behind Daryl so lost in her thoughts she didn't noticed him stop. He started to turn towards her as she bummed into his back, the momentum of his turning and her colliding forced her to lose balance and grab a hold of his arm to steady herself.

"What's a'matter with yah!? Watch where yah goin' and yeh won't fall all over yahself!" Daryl barked out, seeing her eyes widen at his tone made him take a few breaths, then pushed her back a little so he could continue outside. Standing stock-still, Reagan was confused. First he was nice, then he was moody, then he was worried...the whiplash of Daryl's emotions was staring to wear her down.

Daryl knew he shouldn't be so harsh or avoid her, but feelings and talking weren't his thing. Besides, Rea didn't seem to want to talk with him lately. How had he messed this one up? They were good friends, like him and Michonne, closer than him and Rick or Beth and he went and kissed her thinking that it'd help her die easier. Then she didn't die, and now she, more him than her, were avoiding each other. Typical Dixion, he thought, avoid the problem and push it away.

Reagan watched as Daryl stomped away, his hands running through his hair and then turning the corner. Shaking her head and sighing, she turned after him in search of Abraham. She was no fool and could read Daryl's coldness for what is was, avoidance, confusion...whatever had passed between them was gone. Then_ why does it feel wrong when he's not beside you?_

xxxx

It had been decided the group would head out the next morning, before the weather could turn colder and their supplies diminished. With Reagan's help, they had a good map and because of the recent run Daryl had made, they had fuel. How far would that get them was unknown, but Rick hoped it would carry them all the way to Benning, so long as there were no road blocks.

Driving would, estimated, take four or five hours, if they had to walk it could take as long as a week. That was if they didnt run into any unfriendly types or Herds.

Since loosing his bike Daryl was behind the wheel, Rick seated next to him and Michonne, Carl, Beth and baby Judith in the back. He watched as the rest of the group piled into three other cars, noting how Abraham insisted on Reagan riding shotgun with him and Eugene, Rosita, Tara and Bob shoved into a van.

Judging by the look on Rea's face, she would've rather walked than ride with Eugene, who had not stopped demanding to know what drugs were given to her and begging to know what experiments they'd done to prove it was effective. It boiled Daryl's blood, the way the man blatantly ignored the way his intrusive questions affected her. So far, Reagan hadn't spoke a word of what had happened to her in "the facility", as she called it.

That troubled Daryl and Rick, as their make shift convoy departed, he glanced into the rearview mirror at the most stable place they'd been in a while. Frowning, he said gruffly "What do we do if it's a set up? Like Terminus..." Rick looked up from loading sharpening his knife, "Then we move on. Come back, maybe. I don't know.." Looking back at his knife, Rick shrugged. He knew this could be a dead end, but it was something. They had to know if their was more, what it could do..anything.

"They did awful things to her, Dad. You saw her scars...the way she freaked when she woke up..I don't like this.." Carl started talking about all the things he'd observed, and Daryl was impressed. The boys affection for Rea came from somewhere deeper than a crush. He was learning how to read people thru her, running everything now past his dad and Daryl. Nodding as Carl continued to explain her odd behavior since 'coming back.'

The more the kid talked, the more he worried.

xxxx

The convoy had only been driving for a little over an hour when the first car honked once, signaling to stop. Both Rick and Daryl opened their doors and started weaving their way upfront towards Tara and Rosita, who were looking straight out at a mass collision of cars and over turned trucks. They would have to go on foot now.

With everyone knowing the endgame here, they started loading up what they could carry and making plans to move the cars off into the trees, incase they came back this way once leaving Benning. Reagan and Glenn had chosen to do a quick scout through the tangled wreck of cars, to make sure there were no razor wires or walkers roaming, as Maggie and Michonne moved through the trees around them, watching for any dangers. Daryl dug his boot into the dirt off the side of the road, brushing leaves off a fallen sign reading HWY 285-S. He figured if they had to walk the whole way they'd be roughing it for close to a week, if they were lucky. Figures, he frowned deeper. Something a Dixion was good at, he mused.

Hearing twigs breaking and rapid foot-falls, Daryl heaved his crossbow up and whistled to Rick, nodding towards the woods. The pace was too quick for walkers, too loud for anyone trying to sneak. Crouching, he aimed at the thick of the trees, waiting for whatever was coming with Rick doing the same.

Glenn came stumbling from the tree line, panting and covered in sweat, despite the chill in the air. Leaning forward with his hands on his knees, he coughed. "Walkers...herd...they're heading this way.." He sputtered out, eyes wide and small cuts across his cheeks from running. With his knife still in hand, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand As Reagan came through next.

"Good lord, girl. Yous almost got shot.." Daryl growled out, lowering his weapon as she tugged on her sleeve. "We gotta move. Now. Another herd cut me off, were about to be surrounded..." She breathed out, wiping at her eyes, leaving a smear of blood across her nose.

No sooner than Reagan crouched down to catch her breath, she was up again, spinning and pulling the compact bow and aiming into the trees. Daryl sensed it too, she guess, by the way his muscles tensed and he brought his crossbow up.

Two walkers stumbled out with three more following onto the broken pavement they stood on. Reagan let her arrow go, sinking it into eye of the closet walker as Daryl knocked another bolt, ready to take down his second for the day.

Rick pushed forward and grabbed the collar of a decaying man with half a face and few teeth, he buried his knife into its soft skull. Stepping backwards, he could see the whole herd now, stumbling and groaning towards them.

"Go! Now!" He yelled as the group started to move between cars, running for the other side towards the gated rail that divided the roads. They needed to loose the herd, move around the other, and come back out to cross the road again so they could follow the river to PeachTree City for the night. They had to...needed to.

With everyone clambering over the rail and dashing into the trees, he saw Daryl pull Reagan's arm as she pulled another arrow from a walker. They had to preserve their supply, making more would take too long.

"Girl, c'mon...we gotta move.." He whispered to her as Glenn shoved his machete at her to use, the three turned and began to weave through cars after the others. Letting go of he wrist, Daryl turned to take another out. There was just far too many to keep stopping, if they didn't out run them, they'd be run over by them.

Feeling Daryl's hand leave her, Reagan spun around and swung the machete Glenn had given her. Cutting a walkers face in two, her blood began to sting. She gasped as Glenn grabbed her shoulders, saying the had to run. Pushing past him, she jumped onto the hood of a car, shouting to the group, "Go! They'll follow me!"

Turning, Reagan took large steps to go from hood to window to roof and drew her bow back up. Almost like they knew what shed said, the walkers abruptly changed course, instead of stumbling and falling over the rail after the others, they bobbed between cars for her.

"Get your ass over 'ere!" Daryl screamed at her, watching as she put two more arrows out and started to jump from car to car, running over them. The bridge was about two miles down, and he knew she could lose them once she crossed and worked her way down to the river below, double back and meet them at PeachTree, _like hell._

Rick ran forward as Daryl started to make his way back over the railing, intending to follow Rea. Grabbing his friends vest and pulling him backwards, they both stopped struggling as they watched Reagan move over cars and trucks, stopping occasionally to yell and hold the decaying dead men's attention.

Rick flinched when Daryl suddenly screamed for Reagan to stop, to come back. "Brother, we have to go...we gotta come around..the river.." Rick said urgently, pulling Daryl by the arm as some walkers stumbled towards them. Then more and more started to follow. They would be utterly and totally lost if they didnt move quick.

Reagan saw this, she watched wide-eyed as more than half turned back went for her people. Jumping down from the hood of a Jeep Cherokee, Reagan spun and ha eked into the skull of a short walker. Female, small frame, freshly turned and as she pulled the machete from the neck and whacked into the skull, blood sprayed her arms.

Screaming and hitting the long blade across cars, Reagan tried desperately to get the thirty-something walkers to come back to her. "GO! MEET ME AROUND, THE RIVER!GO!" She shouted as loud as she could, hitting at a car window with the handle of the blade. Once it cracked she reared back and punched threw the glass, shredding the skin around her knuckles and leaving blood droplets behind as she climbed into the bed of a truck.

Pulling the compound bow from around her body, she reached into her un-zipped backpack and grabbed an arrow. Standing, she took aim and let the arrow sore through one walker and into another, pinning them down. Seeing Rick yank Daryl to the tree line gave her comfort, short lived as it was though. There were still so many walkers moving away from her. Grunting as she hopped over the side of the truck, she grabbed a rock and started to smash at windows, screaming wildly and hollering for them to follow her.

The tie in her hair fell loose and pale silver strands blew into her face as she reached for the black machete._ When did my hair turn silver..? What..._

Daryl could see from the edge of the woods as Reagan raised the blade up, shoving it through one walkers face and then pulling it back, letting out a primal scream as she started punching at a window to make more noise. His stomach tightened once he realized she was plotting something more. Through narrow eyes, he saw her bring the dark stained blade to her forearm and drag it down. Fresh blood, a perfect bait.

He had to get to her. That was his only thought he had as he followed Rick through the trees and after Abraham.

Xxx

Reagan flinched as the blade seared open her skin, blood oozing out and down her hands. More walkers were following her now, and while that's what she wanted, she was terrified. Taking a shallow breath, she drug the blade up her calf, not as deep but enough so the scent was out there. She was a helpless, walking meal now. Perfect.

Limping through cars, Reagan grabbed every hood and left trails of blood For the hungry mob to follow. Feeling a hand on her shoulder she turned and thruster the blade upwards, cutting the half exposed body in two. Something she had never done before.

Backing up onto the hood, Rea stood and jumped to another car, drawing her bow and arrow and taking out three more. Reaching back for another arrow proved pointless as she was empty. Muttering curses to herself, she moved to another car. Doing a half flip from the roof of an SUV Reagan ran towards the bridge, making way on avoiding anymore kills as she was bleeding out everywhere and needed to get out. She couldn't be turned, but she could be torn apart. She wasn't superman here.

Half running, half limping now Reagan worked her way towards the edge of the bridge when someone grabbed her from behind. Gasping as a hand covered her mouth, she heard a voice, "Stupid girl. Were gonna have fun with you...once this all passes, of course.." A rough, calloused sounding man said, tightening his hold on her waist as he raised a gun to her head.

Butting her head backwards she felt warm liquid flow into her hair, she'd made contact with her nose. The gun fired too close to her, causing her ears to ring and her vision to become blurry.

Crawling forward, Rea grabbed the handles of the bridge and tried to stand.

_This wasn't going to happen again. Never again._

xxx

Hearing the gunshot made the group stop their frantic race to the river. Daryl spun 360 degrees and readied his bow, Rick pulled his gun up, waiting for anything.

"Rea didn't have no gun..." Daryl whispered out, gruff and tried sounding.

He looked Rick in the eyes once, then bolted past him towards the water.

**This seems weird. Odd week. hang in there with me. **

**Xoxox.**


End file.
